Marathon

Thoughts in flight

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I am sitting at the airport waiting for my plane. I deliberately scheduled almost a 3 hour layover because who wants to sprint across the airport the day after a marathon? We already had to switch planes because our scheduled flight was delayed. We would have had 15 minutes to run across the airport to catch our flight if we didn’t switch. I almost laughed. 

The other option was to take a later flight in the opposite direction from our destination. I almost had a panic attack at the thought. Both afternoon flights to Chicago were delayed due to mechanical issues. 

I can tolerate an hour flight unmedicated…even with mechanical issues…on a small plane that once had ashtrays in it…I can’t remember the days that smoking was allowed on a plane. I suppose that would be very bad to be caught smoking on a plane. Almost as bad as having your mug shot hanging up at the post office. 

Did I mention the turbulence?? Apparently most plane crashes happen during take off and landing, not due to turbulence. I decided to educate myself on flying because supposedly education about fears alleviates anxiety. Nope, now I am pretty much afraid the whole flight. I think about things like how can planes see other planes through the clouds.

Then my mind grows darker.. I remember every story, tragedy, TV show, or movie that portrays a plane crash…an air traffic controller not paying attention on the job causing a crash like in Breaking Bad, mechanical failure, a gaggle of geese flying north into the propellers, terrorists. 

Too bad I’m not flying over a deserted tropical island like on Lost. It might be nice to live in seclusion for awhile. 

Yet, despite my fear, I feel captivated by seeing skyscrapers and water from a different perspective from my perch in the sky. 

I wonder if the little oxygen masks ever drop down if we need them. Does anyone ever live to tell us if the safety precautions actually work? 

I think of the scariest caravel ride I’ve been on. I think of falling, fast..I wonder what people think about right before they die. What if they don’t know it is their last breath?

I wonder if the pilot is drunk or high. I search for signs of problems with the plane. What was that sound? Is it me or is the flight attendant looking a little stressed?? 

We had to fly with a different airline when we switched our flight. I had to hobble down to a far terminal. I didn’t see one little train, escalator, or people mover. I hobbled around feeling like I was slowing down traffic. I wore my marathon shirt with fierce pride. 

The next flight I took my anxiety meds. I worried that I would have an allergic reaction and die in flight . 

Then the worry goes away. I don’t clench my husband’s hand quite as hard. 

I imagine floating in the air towards God in the clouds. 

When we land, I don’t worry about getting to our hotel. The methodically planned arrangements bounce off my medicated mind. I walk slow…lethargic…unworried…with a heavy lead marathon limp. 

Somehow we arrive safely to our destination the day after the marathon. 

The third time’s the charm? Right??

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The terror is starting to set in. This weekend I will be running my third marathon. Seriously, at this point, I want to run away. I feel discouraged. I’m having some doubt.

There will be no excuses this time. I am healthy. The weather conditions look absolutely ideal for running. It should be cloudy, dry, and cool.

Last month was the first race of the season. I did an 18 mile trail run with my cousin out of state. I was satisfied with how it went. My cousin was going to join me for this marathon, but due to injury he had to cancel out. I feel disappointment. I had a lot of fun things planned for the weekend besides the marathon.

Now I will be running with Lisa. This is her second marathon. She finished her first in just over 4 hours along with our other friend Cori. I had the expectation on myself that I would complete my first marathon with a similar time. I finished my first half in a little over 2 hours. A marathon should just be double the time, right?? Nope, not for me.

I was injured on my first marathon. I rolled my ankle a couple weeks before the event and still had a little pain. After 26.2 miles of pounding, I was in rough shape and ended in 6 hours. My 2nd marathon, I was afraid. Afraid of getting hurt, afraid of pushing it. It was hot that day, very hot. I ended in 6 hours.

This time the weather conditions are ideal, I am injury free, and there are no excuses.

But I am afraid, very afraid. I am afraid that I am going to fail.

You might be asking yourself…how can any marathon runner be a failure?

I want more for myself…I have goals..I want to compete in a full Ironman by the time I am 45. If I don’t do well this time, there is no way that I will be able to make the time limit for the Ironman. This race is going to make it or break it for me. It will be the deciding factor for future races.

I won’t be making up time lost on running in the swimming or biking department. Running is my strong suit. I can finish a shorter race in a pretty impressive time.

I am a beginning swimmer. I am just learning how to do the breast stroke. Sometimes after finishing my swimming class I am full of confidence, but most of the time I am not.

Can I really do this?? How am I going to feel if I fail in my own eyes?

Everyone around me has been very encouraging. Most people think that I am crazy. This is just the crazy that I allow people to see on the outside of me. But you, my followers and friends, really get to see the full picture. Lol.

As you look in as a spectator of the event, you will see an outward struggle for endurance. But inwardly, I want to outrun my demons. I want to conquer the feeling of not being good enough. I want to be a stronger person. I want to succeed. It’s the inward fight that requires so much more stamina.

The third time is the charm. Right??IMG_0579

Going bananas

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This year I signed up an 18 mile trail race, a marathon, an Olympic triathlon, and a Half Iron. This year is going to determine everything…whether I go to the next level or not…

The countdown is on…9 more days until my first race of the season…an 18 mile trail run…probably the least grueling race of the season..

Yesterday, I went for a 6 mile trail run with my friend Lisa. Frankly, I’m not sure if I would have the courage to run it alone. It seems creepy and scary out in the woods alone. I feel like I could become the victim of some twisted fairy tale villain when in reality the only thing that could be twisted besides my mind is an ankle. I fear that pedophiles lurk in the woods out to find a hapless female runner alone. I should probably be more worried about being attacked by ticks..

Lisa is just afraid of bears, black bears.. Yesterday as a woman was exiting the trail, Lisa asked her if she saw any bears…Lisa it is only a sign posted to prevent frivolous lawsuits.. We were well into the run, when we saw something black coming towards us growling through the woods..Oh my gosh..a bear! But it was only a man dressed in all black grunting as he pedaled towards us up over a hill. For a few minutes, I thought I would have to outrun Lisa…no easy task…We must have laughed a half mile about the ‘bear’ we saw in the woods.

All joking aside, we fell into a deep conversation about competing…Those are my favorite conversations…lots of laughter followed by serious conversation..

How is it that we find ourselves never satisfied with what others would consider big accomplishments??

Why am I not happy to have run a marathon if I don’t feel like I did a good job?

Instead, I always want to do better. I always want to accomplish more. More, more, more…I want better times, more difficult challenges…But will that satiate me or will I never be fulfilled?

Or maybe an even deeper question for reflection is…why am I not satisfied with the difficult things in life that I’ve already done?? Why does the big stack of medals lose its luster? Why am I driven to strive for more?? Why am I not content living an ordinary average mundane boring life??

Nevertheless, I am very excited for the start of another racing season…the struggles…the obstacles…the goals…the medals…the achievements…

Oh, and the ‘free’ banana afterwards…

That right there is the reason I do all of the crazy things I do…I’m going (for the) bananas! That is what a lot of people seem to think anyway…

Stranger then family

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We had our final show this past weekend…What started out as trepidation ended with exhilaration..

I have been thinking again the last couple of days…Community theater is not that much different from running a marathon. I know that some of you may think my comment is a bit of a stretch, especially if you have done one or the other or neither..

There are commonalities… The months of training that nobody really sees… Special clothing… Anticipation…Dread…Goal setting… Setbacks…Worries… Until the months of training culminates with one big ending…the show or race with a lot of spectators.

Our common goal forces us to reach out to people that we wouldn’t talk to in our everyday ordinary lives..that person is the one we hold hands with as we limp across the finish line…It doesn’t matter if we voted for different candidates. All of the things that divide us melt away as we walk hand in hand towards a common goal.

It becomes a place where strangers become family.

It doesn’t matter if I really liked my part or not, although being cast in a great role that really fits adds so much to the experience. I can’t say my lines if no one replies with theirs. We have to work together.

It doesn’t matter if I run fast or slow. Maybe it is a good thing that I am not the fastest runner. It forces me to reach out for the hand of another running down the same road.

Long distance racing and working as a team to make a community theater show great are some of the biggest natural highs that I have experienced in life.

All of the long hours memorizing lines, practicing songs, and running long distances makes it all the more rewarding.

The more you put into it, the more you get out of it.

Why can’t life be like that all of the time? Why can’t we grab the hand of a fellow stranger struggling along the path? Why must we get so hung up on squabbling about our differences??

 

Unbalanced

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This morning I went dumpster diving and it was the most joy I found in weeks.

Am I unbalanced?

I was thinking lately about joy, about balance. The main sectors of my life for the last several years has been family, work, and training for marathons, etc.. I like things clean. I am happy when these sectors don’t collide….when they don’t interrupt other sectors..

Now my sectors are colliding and I feel unbalanced.

Yesterday I took time off of work to train..I didn’t get all of my work done at the end of the day.

Work is so busy I feel guilty for doing anything besides work…I don’t worry about money because of my hard work, but I don’t have time. I drive my car fast because I would rather pay a ticket then lose a few moments of extra time. I tell my son not to speed.

Work pulls at me when I am with family. Another email that needs responding to after hours. It will only take a few minutes.

I eat my lunch while driving to work out or while pacing around the kitchen.

Sometimes I am too busy to write. I should be working. I didn’t get caught up today.

Then the kids pull at me. There is always something going on after school that I have to take them to or be at. Then there was the last couple of weeks spending every moment with my MIL as she was in the final stages of cancer. Then I have to decide which kids to sacrifice the other kids for. Do I cancel out on my daughter’s first opera to stay home with a sick kid??

Then there was my son who was having issues with colitis and he couldn’t get treatment until he gave a sample. He couldn’t get a sample. Then this morning after another call to the doctor, I got the idea of taking a couple of specimens and making it into one sample. Great idea, but it involved me going out into the dumpster with rubber gloves and digging around. But I was successful! Now my son is on medicine and I feel so happy about it.

But I was late for work..

It is so hard to keep my life in balance.

Being very busy at work for the last 3 months, having to hire someone, having to train someone, more work, more customer service issues because we are busier..

Being busy at home running kids around, housework, laundry, dishes, sick kids, a death in the family…

Training for an 18 mile trail run, a marathon, and a Half Iron.

This morning I jokingly said to my husband that I wake up with shit on my lips. Sounds disgusting, I know. I wake up stressed. I mutter to myself oh shit off and on all day. I fall asleep at night stressed and exhausted.

Is all of this effort worth it?

Most of the time I can keep up, but I feel so unbalanced right now… I want to do everything well, but sometimes I have to leave some important things undone and that bothers me.

 

Extreme athlete? Who me?

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Last weekend someone called me an extreme athlete.

I looked to the left of me. I looked to the right. I even did the Hokey Pokey and turned myself around. There was no one else there.

Extreme athlete?? Who me?? I never really thought of myself that way before.

I do eat, sleep, and breathe running.

Even the name of my blog has the word running in it.

Last night I had dreams of running and biking. I dreamed that I didn’t stretch, that I forgot to put on my running shoes, and my legs felt like lead. Then I got to my bike. It was a tiny little one with training wheels.

I also have dreams of racing. Usually in those dreams something goes wrong. Not unlike the unexpected things during race day.

I rolled my ankle three weeks before my first marathon. Despite that, I ended up running the first 18 miles in 3 hours. I had big dreams until I hurt my knee. It took many months for the pain to go away. I said I would never do another marathon again, then went back on my word.

Kind of like the time I said I would never have another child during childbirth.

Every single time I tried something new, I was terrified. I was afraid the first time that I ever ran. I thought I was going to die I was so out of breath. I was afraid during my first 10k, my first half marathon, my first marathon, and my first sprint triathlon. Now I am utterly terrified after signing up for my first half Iron and a very grueling racing season.

But I still did it.

Training for my first marathon was really tough. It was at this time that I realized that I suffered from GERD. The harder I trained, the less I wanted to eat because my stomach was so upset. I had to learn to run with stomach pain. I had to learn the very fine line between eating too much and not eating enough to prevent pain.

At times I thought I was going to be the runner puking on the side of the road. I worry about that while I am at the gym.

I get up on the only day I am able to sleep in to spend the morning at the gym.

(I did a long run this past Saturday and there was a woman next to me on her phone. With all of my heavy breathing I had to laugh because I wondered if the person on the other end thought she was on a porno set.) The things I think of to make running more exciting.

I have learned to run through exhaustion and boredom.

I pretend to race other people at the gym.

I choose what high risk behaviors to engage in. I WILL not do anything risky before a race that could produce an injury, such as down hill skiing. But I WILL do things for a race that others consider crazy.

I will train in the cold, in the rain, in the wind, and when there is a heat advisory.

I have misjudged how fast a storm would arrive and needed to find shelter.

I have been chased by dogs.

I have tripped over a dog and cut up my knee and hands. I had to run home with blood running down my legs and cleaned my wounds with rubbing alcohol to get out the gravel.

I ran with a really high fever. It was one of the toughest 6 miles I ever ran.

I ran through colds.

I ran when I felt zero motivation to do so.

I came very close to being hit by cars on bike and on foot.

I have a very hard time not running.

If this makes me an extreme athlete, so be it.

Why don’t you sign me up for the next race?

Barefoot running

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The hardest part of joining the gym for my husband was buying shoes…

Several years back my husband got on the barefoot running kick after some program he heard on public radio. He ordered the book Born to Run about a tribe of elite super runners that ran barefoot. He decided to give it a try.

I thought he was crazy.

I learned at a young age not to walk around barefoot. With three younger brothers it was dangerous to go to the bathroom at night without shoes or slippers. I don’t even like the feel of grass under my feet.

Then there’s my husband…running around the neighborhood without shoes oblivious of broken glass, gravel, or what people thought of him. At first, his feet looked like raw beef, all red and speckled. He had to wrap them in large bandages. It was gross. After awhile, his feet grew a large layer of callouses over them. The bottoms of his feet looked and felt like leather.

People stopped him while running on the road. They asked him if he was hard up for money. They offered to buy him a pair of running shoes. They said that they couldn’t stand to see him run like that because it seemed so painful. People were doubting his sanity.

Then winter came and he couldn’t run barefoot anymore.

At the beginning of the next outdoor running season, he had to go through the painful raw meat stage again. His feet were cracked, bleeding, and blistered. They shredded up the sheets at night.

Paul said that barefoot running felt so natural. He ran differently without shoes, the way he was meant to. He said that he had less pain in other parts of his body.

But after the second winter rolled around, he didn’t want to go through the painful raw meat stage again. So, he broke down and bought minimalist shoes. They looked like water shoes with a separate area for each toe.

The minimalist shoes lasted forever. His one pair lasted as long as about 15 pairs of mine. After several years, they started to finally wear out. I won’t even tell you about how they smelled.

Once we got a gym membership, Paul had to buy some new shoes. Sadly, extreme minimalist shoes aren’t the in thing anymore and he couldn’t find another pair.

Paul really loved barefoot running. If we lived in a warmer climate, I know he would still be doing it today. He doesn’t like his wide feet being confined in a tight shoe.

I don’t know about you, but as for me, I will stick to my Saucony’s.

But sometimes I have to wonder….if Paul has such a high tolerance of pain, then why isn’t he running marathons with me??

Outrunning, the first steps

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I never intended to be a runner. I never considered myself to be an athlete. This journey began unintended as journeys often times do.

My friend Cori started running first. Then my husband Paul. They tried to talk me into running. I thought to myself that I would start (perhaps) when hell froze over. But I told them I would run once Cori convinced her husband to run (which at the time seemed VERY unlikely).

Sure enough, Cori’s husband started running. Since those first steps, Cori and her husband finished countless marathons and both finished the full Iron.

Being good to my word, I started running too. It was tough at first. I remember my first mile. I thought I was going to die. I didn’t have the proper equipment. I didn’t think I really needed to do anything but run. I ran in heavy cheap athletic shoes and didn’t even have an athletic bra.

Several years after taking my first steps into running, I signed up for my first race. It was a 10k. I was afraid, I never ran that far before. It was terrifying and exhilarating at the same time.

I remember the first time I ran 10 miles. I thought I was going to die. I felt light headed and sick. My whole body ached. My legs were on fire. I was out of breath.

Then I signed up for my first marathon at the age of 40. I was terrified. I tried to get any advice that I could. One book I read was actually someone’s blog that she turned into a book.

A marathon? A blog? Why couldn’t I do that too??

So I consulted with my cousin and my pastor (probably a good thing to do?) who are both runners and have a blog.

Then I started this blog. At first it was going to be about running, or more specifically, training for a marathon. Then it morphed into so much more…writing about my experience growing up with a severely autistic sibling, parenting teenagers, travel, working with my husband at our own business, adventures in sailing…and it will probably take me down other winding roads that I have no idea about yet..

This is where it all began…How I started outrunning my demons, one step at a time…And it was something that I (as a big time planner) never planned. If someone told me I would be doing this ten years ago, I would’ve laughed at them. You’re crazy! Maybe when hell freezes over..

It almost makes me wonder where my journey will take me in another 10 years.

 

Running on the last leg

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I think my treadmill is on its last leg.

We bought it used almost 2,000 miles ago.

The liner under the belt is starting to unravel. It is coming off in big chunks that look like dust. It almost looks like I don’t use my treadmill or am bad at cleaning my house.

Every time I step on it, the treadmill growls. Seriously, I didn’t gain that much weight over the holidays!

Now I have to hang on to the hand rails when I run because sometimes it stops without warning or catches which might propel me into a wall.

Hey, at least it didn’t start to smoke!

So, I am faced with having to buy a new treadmill or join a gym.

If I join the gym I would actually have to drive a half an hour, share machines with strangers, and shave once in awhile.

But I could bike and swim in the winter. It has been hard to train outside when the lakes are frozen and the roads are icy.

Plus, it would get rid of an ugly piece of furniture(?) in my small house.

There are so many pros and cons to each scenario. I liked having a gym membership, but found it harder to make it work out with my busy schedule.

What do you do to make training easier over the winter??

 

In too deep…again..

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In 2016, I kept track of how many miles I ran and biked over the year. I’m sure glad that is over! Keeping track of it all was a lot of work.

Running: 794 miles

Biking: 298 miles

I also did Jillian Michael’s video No More Trouble Zones 15 times. I am happy to report that my trouble zones are now gone. Thanks Jillian!

This past year I achieved my goals of competing in one 5k, one 10k, a half marathon, a full marathon, and my first sprint triathlon.

Now I am looking forward to a new year with very challenging goals.

I tend to like to dip my feet in the water before jumping in all the way.

I am happy to start with a 10k or sprint because I have learned so much before moving on to bigger and better things. The first race I ever ran was a large 10k. The first mile that I ran I was so terrified that I wanted to run off the course and sit down with the spectators. I wasn’t expecting anxiety. I learned from that experience.

I also learned from my first sprint triathlon. I learned how to ride a race bike which is a lot different from the bike I tore around town in as a kid. I am still learning how and when to switch gears. I relearned balance and speed, but not without going into the ditch on a turn. I learned where to bike to avoid cars. I also learned not to hug the ditch after almost hitting a skunk.

I learned that I am not as good of a swimmer as I thought I was. My two months of lessons as an 8 year old never prepared me for this. At race speed, I had a hard time maintaining a rhythmic breathing pattern. I didn’t take into consideration needing to take breaths more often. I was the one floundering around doing the doggy paddle gasping for breath. I also noticed that my left arm is a lot stronger than my right and ended up taking myself into deep water versus staying on course. To go any further with this, I need swimming lessons and a lot more practice.

More lessons learned..

Yesterday, I signed up for my third marathon. I know that I told you to talk me out of it, but it is too late. I also signed up for my first trail half marathon. I am going to do these events with my cousin.

I also mentioned finding a wet suit for myself on clearance. While I was at the fitness store, I ran into the director of a triathlon on Lake Michigan. He said that last year the swimmers faced 1 to 2 foot waves. Half of the participants couldn’t do it. The ones that did felt like they were on a roller coaster ride and not in a good way. Then the participants had to bike in rainy conditions. It was very grueling and many didn’t make it. The sad part was that I didn’t cringe in terror. Something inside of me said sign up. Crazy!?!!

Yesterday I went on the triathlon’s website just for the heck of it. I noticed that the tri was open for less than 24 hours and was nearing full capacity. That is how I ended up signing up for my first half Iron. Now I am absolutely cringing in terror, but excited too.

Looks like I will have more adventures to share with you (lessons to learn)…